Moon Cream

I’ve been looking out for moon cream when I’m at the local shop,
But it’s rare as a rabbit without its hop or a horse with no clip-clop.
So what is it that I’m to do when I want to go moonbathe,
Relax upon night’s silvery sand or surf a moonlit wave?

Night Garden

I’m relaxing in the garden and there’s no one else around,
And for some strange unknown reason, there isn’t any sound.
And when I come to think of it there isn’t even any light,
But then I realise I’m being a fool not noticing it’s night.

Curious Clouds

How does a cloud float in the sky suspended almost still,
And how like a watering-can indeed with water does it fill?
Then why when all but bursting, kindly wool disguised and cloaked,
Unexpected does it empty so that all below get soaked?

Befuddled Birds

It’s a good job birds don’t lie in bed and sleep ‘till nearly noon,
And aren’t then up late every night loud tweeting at the Moon.
We’d miss their lively chatter, and its soundtrack to the day,
Although we’ll never understand a single word they say.

Grateful for Gravity

How do our feet cling to the Earth when spinning and upside down,
And what is it that pulls a smile into a downward frown?
I guess it’s that thing gravity; the universal glue,
Which safely holds all earthly things, including me and you.

~For MR~